Heart Throb

The very sight of

Me makes many watery

I remain in busy places

Sometimes in star hotels too.

I am crispy, round and hollow

Go along with my associate

Never travel alone

 as everyone wants

me only with my associate,

while Chickpea smash potatoes onion

Compete to come and join me

And Sometimes Garam Masala also has a way

 But Tamarind is always wedded

With my associate

I remain outside

and my associate generally

In a big belly container

 

In the crowded centres

And in street corners

I stand with pride

As each one waits

Watering his tongue

Waiting for his turn

When my master

Pricks me in

Puts is hand

Deep in the

Container belly

Brings my associate in

Along with me

And hands it delicately

To the customer

Such that me and my associate

Go together

In one gulp

 

The moment we are in

A bit of water rushes

Through the eyes

And we taste so much

That the hand

With a small plate

Stretches itself

To have one more

My master

Puts his hand

Again and again

To quench

The taste buds

 

I am the Puri

My associate is the Pani

Some call us Pani Puri

Some Golgappe

And sometimes Puchki too

But we dwell

In the hearts of many

Especially when

The sun sets

 

Some don’t prefer

My master

But let me tell you

My master's hands

Makes it more

Tastier, than the cutlery

In the hotels

I’m the heart throb

The great Pani Puri